


In Want of a Husband

by Faye_Reynolds



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: M/M, You're Welcome, and drag me in the comments, i will put the character list in the authors notes to help guide, if anyone asks me who william hedges is they will receive a toe in the mail, it fuels me and is what i deserve, james is mrs. bennet, like you'll get the vibes but the story is all its own, please enjoy all the 20k glory, pride and prejudice!au but make it gay and only somewhat but vaguely adjacent to the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29389134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faye_Reynolds/pseuds/Faye_Reynolds
Summary: In the fall of 1811, in the English village of Meryton, the arrival of wealthy bachelors, Mr. Hedges and Mr. Pilkington stirs up the families with single children. Among those is the Crozier-Fitzjames family, with five eligible sons, including the spirited and caring, Solomon, and his pretty and kind older brother, Thomas. As their fathers push them to marry, Solomon's encounters with the peremptory Mr. Pilkington make him want to swear off marriage for good.
Relationships: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames, John Irving/Edward Little, Thomas Armitage/William Hedges, William Frederick Pilkington/Solomon Tozer, William Gibson/Cornelius Hickey
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6
Collections: The Terror Rarepair Week 2021





	In Want of a Husband

**Author's Note:**

  * For [itspilkiebitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itspilkiebitch/gifts).



> as promised and requested, the character list (ft. unedited and initial author's notes)  
> Elizabeth Bennet – TOZEY  
> Mr. Darcy – PILK
> 
> Jane Bennet – Armi  
> Mr. Bingley – Hedges  
> Miss Bingley – DES VOEUX hahahah
> 
> Mr. Bennet – Frauncis  
> Mrs. Bennet – Jaemes
> 
> Mr. Wickham – Mr. Hickey  
> Lydia – Billeh Gibs.
> 
> Mr. Collins – Irving hahahahahha  
> Charlotte Lucas – (marries irving – supposed to be tozey’s bff – but also in relation to irving – so Ed Little?)
> 
> Mr. and Mrs. Gardienr – Sir John and Lady Jane inconsequential per my author’s rights
> 
> Lady Catherine de Bourgh – DUNDY – but not a bitch about it also probs. only mentioned?  
> Georgiana Darcy – pilk’s brother – “immensely pretty and shy – skilled at pianoforte – HODGE!!!!
> 
> The other Bennets  
> Mary – Young – just lives to do his own thing and scare/hide from jaemes 24/7  
> Catherine – Manson – the son no one wanted but is there for plot development
> 
> moderately edited, any further mistakes you read are on account of my dyslexia and lack of time management.  
> if it needs to be spaced out into chapters, please let me know.
> 
> _to el, you are the bean to my thot, thank you_

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a spouse.

Something James Fitzjames is sure to remind his sons of at three separate instances a day, at least, who now looks to his husband after not-so-inconspicuously spying on the neighbors once again.

“My dear Francis,” he calls out despite his husband sitting at his writing desk behind him, “have you heard that the Stanley’s have married off their last?”

There is a muttering behind him that is neither confirmation nor denial and James sighs as he sets his tea down. He turns abruptly, staring his husband down, with hands firmly on his narrow hips.

“Do you not wish to know whom they have married?” James asks, impatient.

Francis finally looks up, a smile hidden beneath his bitten lips.

“ _You_ wish to tell me, no? I have no objection to hearing you speak this morning.” Francis can no longer keep the smile hidden and delights in the angered huff he receives in response.

“ _This_ morning? I suppose other mornings you long to be elsewhere?” James asks tightly.

“No, not elsewhere entirely, just a quieter elsewhere.”

James lets out a noise of frustration and throws himself upon the settee quite dramatically.

Francis joins him after a long moment, ensuring he will not be unwelcomed.

He grabs James’ hand and pulls it to his lips, “To whom have the Stanley’s married their youngest?”

James refuses to look at him but could not deny the talking of the day’s gossip, despite it still being early in the morning. Francis would never admit the impress of his husband’s ability to know all that goes on in their town before dawn breaks.

“The middle of the Golding’s, Robert, you know what this all means, Francis?” James finally turns to Francis and the concern in them worries him to no end.

He shifts closer to James to try and soothe the unease, “What does it mean, my dear?”

“There are no more eligible suitors in Hertfordshire…well, none in residence. How will our boys' futures fair? The days go by, Francis, and they are only getting older. I fear for them.”

Francis pulls a genuinely distraught James into his arms and places a kiss atop his head. The love they shared and that they had for their sons was unmatched. He knew the concerns James was expressing, were shared by both. However, James made his known and had a habit of overwhelming their sons.

“As do I, but they’re still young James. When you and I found one another, we were far older, and look how well we’ve done for ourselves.”

James’ head shoots up, “We gave our best years to the military, Francis, it’s different. Solomon and Thomas spend their days reading and talking in whispers. They continue to ignore the sparring lessons we have set for them. Blanky is being paid to nap at this point. Billy and Magnus are only interested _in_ soldiers, not being one. David,” James sighs, “I honestly forget he is here most days. The boy longs for nothing but trinkets and new books.”

Francis can feel the weight James has put upon himself weighing him down.

“James, we have five incredible sons whose futures must be their own. Ours were chosen for us, albeit for varied reasons, and though I’d not have it any other way, I’d rather our sons choose theirs.” He links their hands together and holds tight.

“I hate when you do that,” James comments and settles further into Francis’ side like a cat stretching into the warm sunlight.

Francis smiles and settles on remaining in the embrace for the rest of the unusually quiet morning.

“What is that, _James_?”

“Make me see reason.”

Francis laughs and pulls James further into his side.

“If I did not, I am not sure you ever would.”

James' hand slaps against his thigh at the remark, but they are both laughing as they lounge in the morning sunlight, unaware their eldest and second eldest had been listening just outside the door.

Though they were their fathers’ sons, in every sense of the word, Solomon always kept in mind the invisible ‘adopted’ that many in the social circles always included. He had always hated the balls and all the grandstanding involved with them.

“Do I have to go?” He knows he sounds like David, but the longing to miss the event cannot be helped.

“Yes, both your father and I request it.”

Solomon leans against the doorjamb, “ _Both_ of you?”

Francis sighs and looks towards his second eldest, and while he may never openly admit it, his actions since Solomon’s adoption have shown a great _preference_ toward the boy over the others _._ The only problem was that Solomon knew this and shamelessly used it to his advantage in the same way Thomas did with James.

Still, Francis had made a promise to himself yesterday morning to support James’ endeavors more.

So, he responds with a sigh and a firm, “No, but you will do so anyway.”

His father’s tone leaves no room for argument. So, Solomon, _maturely_ groans, and most certainly does not stomp up the short staircase to his shared room with Thomas and shuts the door.

“We _have_ to attend.” He throws himself atop their bed and sighs, while Thomas laughs from in front of the white vanity in the corner of their room.

“You and David seem to be the only one lamenting tonight’s event.”

Yesterday afternoon had found two letters delivered, one to Francis that went undiscussed and one to James inviting them to the ball at Meryton where it seems the Hedges had returned. Since then, Solomon has not had a moment's peace without his father running about their home trying to get his sons prepared for the following night. Billy and Magnus had not ceased their incessant chatter about all the eligible men that were to attend. David hid himself between the bookshelves and Solomon delighted in watching his father pass him ten times over in his search for the youngest.

Thomas, though, the dutiful eldest, had been helping and preparing with the seriousness of a man preparing for war, while Solomon had tried to hide in his favorite place on the roof, but a sudden downpour had him locked inside for the duration of the day.

Now, it seems he must prepare as well.

“Not all of us have your sensibilities, Mr. Armitage.” He narrowly dodges the brush thrown his way and laughs.

“You know I can’t stand that. Unlike you, the rest of us have embraced our responsibilities.”

“I embrace them, Tommy!” Solomon shouts suddenly, offended that it seemed he did not by his brother and best friend.

“Prove it, then. Come to the ball and _play nicely._ ” Thomas raises his eyebrows and Solomon shakes his head knowing he would rise to the challenge.

“Fine, but we’re not bloody matching this time.”

He ignores that chuckling behind him and begins to dress for the night, pulling his favorite red waistcoat out and beginning with the brush on the floor to try and tame his wild curls.

* * *

Solomon could see why the excitement of the night was due because even he was having a pleasant enough time.

The was until the guest of honor entered the room and everyone within earshot began discussing the man and his compatriot.

“…so handsome.”

“…must be his friend, Mr. Pilkington.”

“…I heard someone say he earns ten thousand a year.”

“…ten thousand?”

Solomon had his back to them, laughing inwardly at just how loud their “hushed” conversation was.

Still, Tommy had stopped talking and was openly _staring_ in a way Solomon had not recognized.

He turns the moment the two men pass by and is met with uninterested eyes far darker than they have any right to be. They pass without so much as a smile and though he wishes anything other, Solomon feels rebuked.

“Pinch me, Solomon.”

He does as he is asked and laughs when Tommy slaps his hand.

“I did not mean…did you see him, Sol? Mr. Hedges?”

“I did,” Solomon responds with a tone that suggested his brother elaborate.

“He’s quite handsome, far more so than any of the others father has found.”

Were it possible, Solomon would be certain stars were in Tommy’s eyes. Still, he cannot help but tease his sibling.

“Now, now, Tommy, what was so wrong with Mr. Hartnell?”

A visible shiver passes through Tommy and he smacks the shoulder of his brother.

“He tried to shoot me, Solomon.”

“Not with ill intent, David just scared him when he shouted from the house.”

He met with a glare far too similar to James’ to deny they were not father and son, regardless of blood relation.

“Either way, his hair was far too short and reminded me too much of father to ever consider him in a romantic light.”

Tommy shivers again and Solomon laughs louder than he would like because of course James would pick someone who looked similar to Francis as an acceptable suitor for his son.

“Mr. Hedges, however, looks nothing like either of our fathers. He looks… _kind._ ” Tommy remarks with both determination and fancy.

His eyes have not left the man in question, nor his left Tommy’s for a good measure.

“Ask the man to dance before you both expire, Thomas.”

Tommy looked appalled before Solomon leveled him with a stern look not unlike Francis’, but with younger, wider eyes.

It still had the same effect, though it turned out Thomas did not have to ask because Mr. Hedges and his friend had already crossed the floor.

They bowed toward both of them and Tommy and Solomon bowed in return, though Solomon could not help but smile at their awkwardness.

“I am Mr. Hedges, uh, William Hedges,” there was a long moment of silence where Mr. Hedges stared at Tommy and Tommy stared at Mr. Hedges and Solomon stared at them while Mr. Pilkington stared at the ground before Mr. Hedges spoke again, “T-this is my dear friend, William Frederick Pilkington.”

“Pleased to meet you, I am Thomas Armitage, and this is Solomon Tozer.”

Despite the coldness felt by the man in front of him, Solomon was polite enough to smile at both Mr. Hedges and Mr. Pilkington. His eyes drift toward the more solemn and serious man, besides Mr. Hedges, who was the opposite and about as bubbly and light as the champagne being served.

“Thomas,” Mr. Hedges sighs the name as though it were a breath of fresh air, “would you delight me with a dance?”

Solomon watches his brother nod eagerly before the two are dashing off to the floor, leaving him alone with Mr. Pilkington. He had not been wrong about the dark eyes that seemed fathomless, even though he is standing so close. A distinct but not overly sharp jawline was outlined crisply against his black waistcoat. He was unlike any other man Solomon had ever seen and the mystery of it all had Solomon begging for him to say something charming.

“Fools, the lot of them. Prancing about as though nothing else exists. As though nothing more important is occurring.”

Solomon’s eyebrows draw together in confusion at the sudden statement and the rudeness of its intent. He tries, _nicely_ , to remind the other man that he is no longer among his peers.

“While it may not be as exciting as your daily life or other places you are accustomed to, Mr. Pilkington, events such as these are important to those who live here. You would do well to remember that.”

He curses his inability to tame the delivery of his words, as they arrive with far more bite than they were meant to, but he does not like strangers. Especially strangers with big dark eyes and a brooding disposition that dares you to stop looking, if you can.

Those eyes meet his own and Solomon does not in fact swoon so much as the pace of his heartbeat increases.

The other man takes a single step forward and Solomon is nearly scandalized by how easily this man invades his space. Then he leans in _even closer_ to remark, “And you would do well to remember how you speak to those you do not know.”

Solomon cannot help the anger that boils over like an unwatched pot. He would love nothing more than to use the lessons he has learned from Mr. Blanky and watch the man before him drop to the ground after a single blow.

But he knows what this night means to his fathers, and Tommy, so he bites his tongue, and lets go of his tightened fist. He minds his manners and does what is expected of him. He offers his hand.

“Would you care to dance, Mr. Pilkington?”

The man stares at Solomon’s hand and face, back and forth, for a long moment, each second making Solomon look a greater fool, though he can see the surprise strike those near-black, and now wide, eyes.

  
“N-no.”

He turns and walks away suddenly, leaving an embarrassed, furious, and confused Solomon behind.

* * *

The night continues in a laborious fashion that has Solomon’s head and feet aching. Despite Mr. Pilkington’s refusal, Solomon has had no lack of a dancing partner. Still, none of those he dances with held half as much of his attention or curiosity as Mr. Pilkington, and the anger he had with himself over giving the other man any more of his time was too great to go unnoticed.

“Have I done something wrong, Mr. Tozer?” Asked Mr. Collins, a kind if not skittish man, who all knew had eyes for his coworker, Dr. Goodsir. Solomon notes his father’s, James’, approving eyes on both him and Tommy and he suddenly feels overheated.

Solomon smiles warmly at his friend and ignores the feeling of eyes upon his back, “Not at all Henry, though I am a trifle warm, whisk me away to the gardens then find and dance with Goodsir.”

He watches pale cheeks color with blush, but he nods all the same. They reach the small step toward the lush gardens of the estate and Solomon bows deeply in gratitude to Henry before stepping out into the cooler air of the night.

He walks for a long moment before his tired feet force him to rest atop a stone bench partially covered with bushes. It is not long before he is disturbed.

“Oh! I could dance with him until sunrise, Frederick, why must you pull me away when I want nothing more than to continue.”

“You must take a moment, William. You cannot keep dancing with Thomas.”

Solomon’s ears perk up then, both at Mr. Pilkington’s Irish accent that he could not detect over the music inside and at the mention of his brother. He remains unseen by the two men.

“And why not?” Mr. Hedges laugh but there is an edge to it that Solomon easily recognizes as the man crosses his arms.

“You are making a statement without realizing it. By not dancing with others, you are declaring an _interest_. One that is taken seriously in towns like these.”

“Good,” Mr. Hedges replies, serious and a little offended is Solomon is seeing properly through the bushes, “I want my _interest_ , as you put it, _well known._ ”

There are two sighs made at the same time and both men look far older than they look.

“I do not know why you act like this at these events, my friend. If you only seek out to be miserable, that all you will ever find.”

Mr. Pilkington groans and Solomon shifts closer since he begins to speak more quietly.

“Just be careful, William. You have no idea what this man is after and you stand to lose for too much should you choose the wrong person.”

Mr. Hedges places a hand on Mr. Pilkington’s shoulder, “Fear not, Frederick. Love does not involve choice, it simply happens.”

Solomon must withhold a laugh at the roll of Mr. Pilkington’s eyes for he knows the exact emotions the man must be feeling.

“Now, enough of this, you must dance with someone tonight. I’ll not have another event where you stand in a corner collecting dust with the vases. You must dance.”

Mr. Pilkington looks as though he would rather eat his own arm than move back into the building and Solomon has a moment of sympathy for the man.

“Absolutely not. You know how much I detest dancing with strangers and since your brother is otherwise engaged tonight and there is not another man in that room who would not be an absolute hell to dance or converse with, I will not.”

Mr. Hedges groans in annoyance while Solomon tries to temper his anger and offense.

_Just who did this Mr. Pilkington think he was anyway? There were plenty of more than perfectly suitable people in the other room. Even he could….no, he would not embarrass himself again._

“You once again let your fickleness command you, dear friend. For there are more than enough pleasant conversationalists and talented dancers in that room than any of the other events we have attended together. Many of them far more handsome as well.”

There is a sneer and Mr. Pilkington responds, “ _You_ are dancing with the only handsome one in the room, William.”

For a moment, Mr. Hedges indulges in his emotions, “Oh yes! He is the loveliest I have ever held and is so kind and modest. He tells me his brother is like him but holds these events in as much esteem as you do.”

Mr. Pilkington looks curious and Solomon curses the flutter in his torso as those dark eyes grow wider, “Of whom do you speak? None in the room look similar, aside from Commander Fitzjames.”

Solomon has to hold in the laughter as father’s title, remembering the trick David played recently in which James ended up covered in flour and honey.

“Solomon, the man standing next to Thomas when we were introduced.”

“Oh,” Mr. Pilkington remarks with slight regret or embarrassment Solomon isn’t sure, “he is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt _me,_ and I am in neither the correct mood nor temperament to handle the likes of him tonight.”

Mr. Hedges appears unfazed and a little amused and now Solomon is officially offended.

“Oh, I see, you actually fan-,”

“Best return to your partner, William, lest he is taken by another.” Mr. Pilkington interrupts and abruptly ends the conversation.

Solomon is about to retreat from the bushes when suddenly his name is called from across the gardens.

“Solomon! There you are!” Tommy calls out and begins running toward him.

He has four heartbeats to decide whether to reveal himself to the other men or to pretend he had not known they were there.

He stands tall and proud, refusing to let Mr. Pilkington's words affect him.

Their shame and embarrassment are evident, and Solomon takes solace in that.

“Thomas, I was just wishing a good evening to Mr. Hedges and Mr. Pilkington.”

Thomas looks confused, but one look from his brother and he knows he will get an explanation later.

“Yes,” He begins unsure, “unfortunately we have obligations in town in the morning. Thank you for a lovely evening, Mr. Hedges. A pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Pilkington.”

Solomon is barely holding his anger in and lets Thomas perform the pleasantries.

Mr. Hedges steps forward and Mr. Pilkington steps back but refuses to stop looking at Solomon.

“I have not had a lovelier or kinder partner in my memory, Thomas. Should I extend an invitation to dine with me, would you be so inclined to accept?”

Thomas blushes and Solomon rolls his eyes even though he is seconds away from running home because Mr. Pilkington is _still_ gazing at him.

“Gladly, please send the details to my home. My father and three brothers will continue inside. I ask you to tell them we have gone, please. We really must leave now. I am terribly sorry.”

Tommy grabs his hand and pulls him toward the entrance of the manor.

They walk slowly toward the entrance, and Tommy only says, “We will talk when we are home.”

Solomon has never been so happy to have his brother by his side, even as he wipes the angry tears from his eyes.

He absolutely detests Mr. Pilkington and wishes to never hear or speak of him again.

* * *

_Dear Edward,_

_I write to you to discuss all that had occurred since your last letter. The ball was as eventful as you can think. Henry steadily avoided Dr. Goodsir until the end of the night and they stammered through asking one another to dance until father physically pushed them together. Billy said there was a sigh throughout the room once they finally danced. I wish I had stayed to witness it, but other events that night had Tommy and I leaving earlier than expected. I will tell you now, should you ever encounter Mr. Pilkington, please give him my kindest regards in the form of a fist to his face._

_Still, one other good thing came of that night. Tommy is walking on air since he met Mr. Hedges that night. It had been just over a fortnight and they have dined in company together four times, danced together just as much, and saw him the other morning at his home. I would say our dear Thomas is in love._

_I am so happy for him, though I wish Mr. Hedges’ company did not include Mr. Pilkington, such rudeness and pride are unforgivable._

_I shall see you at the week's end and we can discuss more then. Your father’s party will hopefully be far less dreadful on my part._

_Sincerely,_

_Solomon._

* * *

William Hedges’ ability to invade areas should be considered a military strategy, Solomon thinks to himself.

It seems he cannot seem to escape the man nor his friend.

Still, in any and all possible encounters, Tommy found Mr. Hedges and he found Tommy. Solomon took great enjoyment in watching them separate just to find one another again.

“Quite a different dance they are doing, is it not?”

Solomon smiles and looks to his dearest friend, Edward Little, “One you and I are heartily unfamiliar with, but I am happy to see Tommy involved in.”

“I must admit your father’s excitement is quite palpable. He’s not given my father a moment's relief.”

Solomon laughs, James had been unstoppable since that first invitation to dinner and now he is even more set on Solomon finding a husband.

“You know how he is; he sees suitors in terms of their pay grade.”

Edward laughs through a sip of champagne before shrugging his shoulders.

“Quite the payday one would have with Mr. Hedges.”

Solomon nods and smiles as Tommy trips toward the piano because he could not take his eyes off of said man.

“You know that isn’t what Tommy cares for. He has only ever wanted a loving spouse and home of his own. He could have both with Mr. Hedges, provided James calms himself.”

Edward nods beside him.

“It would also help if Tommy would just confess his love or Mr. Hedges his, both of their feelings are as known as if written on their forehead.”

“To be clear, Tommy’s disposition is one of cheer and kindness. To determine his feelings from friendship and romance could be difficult. Not everyone knows Tommy as you do.”

Solomon nods and turns to his friend, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, “I have forgotten how wise you are, my dear friend. I must visit more often.”

Edward bats his hand away with a laugh and when his eyes widen Solomon tries to turn to see what he is looking at.

“You may wish to take that sentiment back my friend.”

“Mr. Little,” the voice behind him is unmistakable and Solomon closes his eyes to brace himself, “Mr. Tozer.”

Solomon nods, and if it were not for Tommy’s future happiness hanging in the balance, he would lay into the other man.

Instead, he is incredibly pleasant.

“Mr. Pilkington, a pleasure to see you again.”

The surprise on the other man’s face is clear, but it quickly shifts to the stoic expression Solomon is familiar with.

“And you, Mr. Tozer. I would like to apoligi-,”

“No apology necessary, Mr. Pilkington. You made your thoughts and intentions noticeably clear. If you will excuse me, gentlemen.”

He leaves quickly to pretend to seek someone else out but ends up in the gardens of the Little’s home, suddenly feeling like he did that night a few weeks prior.

“There’s no shelter from the pressures we are under.”

Solomon turns his head sharply to a man standing against the house, staring into the woods just beyond.

“It seems not, Mr…” he leads on, unaware of who this odd man is.

“Des Voeux, Charles Des Voeux.”

“Oh, you are Wi-,”

“William’s brother, yes. Seemed to be my own man before all this began, but now it appears my only title is ‘brother’ and ‘fiancée’,” The man sighs heavily and looks so forlorn that Solomon laughs gently at the dramatics. This man could give his father a run for his money.

The laugh must come off as an insult and the look of incredulity forces another burst of laughter from his chest and Solomon wishes he could stop but cannot. The tension of the night and the sudden appearance of Mr. Pilkington needing an outlet in some way.

“I-I am dreadfully sorry; I must have had too much champagne. Please excuse me.”

He turns and runs directly into the object of his annoyance and avoidance.

Warm hands encircle his arms and hold him tightly from falling backward.

“Careful, Mr. Tozer. It would pain me to see you hurt.”

Solomon’s head shoots up and finds nothing but kindness and concern in the dark, bottomless eyes that have haunted more of his dreams than nightmares.

He gazes at them and is _gazed at_ for a long moment before they both remember who and where they are.

Solomon is upset with himself at his actions and at being so wrapped up in the other man, that his response comes out harsher than intended.

“I am certain you would survive just fine, Mr. Pilkington. Excuse me.”

He rushes into the house leaving a confused Frederick behind.

“What did you say to him, Charles?” He demands, knowing the other man’s habit for causing trouble.

Charles’ eyes narrow before coming to a realization, “Well, well, well, all it takes is bad manners and clumsy behaviors to have you swooning, Frederick?”

He rolls his eyes, thinking they had moved beyond this, even with Charles engaged to Lieutenant Gore.

“Had I only known before, imagine where we would be now.”

“Goodbye Charles.”

“Wait, wait, wait! Don’t you want to know what he said about you?”

He stops just short of the door, curiosity beating out his common sense.

“Tell me.”

* * *

“Oh,” Solomon sighs heavily, “ _that_ _man_!”

Edward Little has known Solomon since they were children. He knows every quirk and mannerism the intense man held. He was a brother in all senses of the word, and as such Edward could regard him with the same manner.

“I have never seen you so tense over another. What did Mr. Pilkington do?”

Edward is pulled into the library as Solomon relays his troubles to his friend.

* * *

Frederick enters the home briskly, determined to clear the air with Mr. Tozer, despite what Charles had just told him.

He had been properly chastised weeks ago when his conversation was overheard, and he had been in a foul mood and was looking to take it out on strangers. It was not helped by how he was bested in conversation by Mr. Tozer and then _offered a dance_. He had to hastily escape lest he embarrass himself.

Now, he only sought to correct Mr. Tozer’s idea of him. Only to maintain his reputation, he tells himself, though he knows it to be a lie. Something about the other man kept drawing him in like a siren’s call and he feels doomed whether he follows it or not.

He ignores Charles’ words, certain the other man other sought to make him suffer after he refused the other man’s _forward_ advances, quite publicly.

He pushes the thoughts aside and searches nearly every room, having to chat idly so as to not look so desperate, until the only room left is the library.

He steels his nerves and walks toward the room.

Edward had not laughed so heartily in a long time. He truly forgot how much the antics of Solomon and his family delighted him. Still, his best friend’s smitten disguised as misery was too much to allow to go unmarked.

If the petulant look he receives in response is anything to go by, his laughter is entirely warranted.

Once he calms himself, he knows he must explain.

“If I did not know you so well, one might say your attraction to him is as clear as your annoyance.”

The blush and stuttered response are confirmation enough that Solomon is about to lie.

“I-I…” his voice trails off as if only coming to the realization himself. For all the intelligence he held, when it came to emotions, Solomon was not always the sharpest.

“ _Oh.”_

Edward nods with sympathy at his friend’s crisis but smiles brightly that it seems he may have finally found someone.

“James will be positively unbearable once he finds out.” Edward laments.

That seems to snap Solomon out of his reverie, and he looks to Edward in absolute shock and fear.

“N-no, he mustn’t know. No one can know.”

The demand confuses Edward completely.

“What are yo— this is great news, Sol! You like so few people. Given Tommy’s likelihood to marry Mr. Hedges, it would work out nicely. Why can no one know?” Edward crosses his arms, as Solomon looks toward the doorway, not letting his friend escape without explanation.

“I will not seek out someone who views me the way he does. I will not beg or seek favor like a desperate fool, no matter how _agreeable_ I may find him. He does not and will never feel the same. There is no future with him. Trust me, the less I see of Mr. Pilkington, the better for us all.”

Edward sighs heavily, despite all he acts like Francis, Solomon takes just as much after James. Especially where his heart is concerned.

“If that is how you feel, Solomon, I will not say a word. Though I urge you to truly reconsider.”

* * *

Frederick stops just short of the library, not wanting to interrupt Mr. Tozer in the middle of his conversation, after hearing his voice from the foyer.

_“There is no future with him. Trust me, the less I see of Mr. Pilkington, the better for us all.”_

Now he wishes he only left well enough alone. He wants to feel affronted, but instead feels it is what he deserves after treating Mr. Tozer and his brother so harshly. Still, a part of him feels the part of a jilted lover and he clears the thought for sake of finding shelter from his sudden emotions.

He also seeks to be anywhere else besides the library where it seems Mr. Tozer and his friend were leaving.

Unfortunately, the party itself was in full swing and he has nowhere to go that would not involve being pulled into an idle, pointless conversation. So, he stands stills and prays that he remains unseen until they pass. It would be difficult to explain away his standing there, should they notice.

He curses the lack of luck at any point in his life when his chance to leave has him colliding once again with the object of his waking thoughts.

Wild curls fill his vision and eyes full of dark grey storms, ones more dangerous than those he has ever weathered, fill his vision and have him suddenly speechless.

“I-I apologize, Mr. Pilkington. I-,” Solomon does not finish his thought and instead rushes away from Frederick as though he had been struck by lightning.

Frederick is left with his hands empty and heart heavy. Despite the room full of people, he longs for nothing more than to be alone. He walks blindly back toward the library for a moment of reprieve, unaware of one particular attendee who had watched the entire event play out.

* * *

A week following the Little’s party and Solomon was finally letting the bulk of his thoughts not be occupied with deep brown curls and even darker eyes.

He wakes to find his brother had not returned from dinner last night.

“Where is Tommy?” He demands the moment breakfast is served.

“He is still at the Hedges’, seems riding in the rain has Thomas feel feeling a bit under the weather,” his father’s sly smile hidden beneath a teacup. James was always the strategist of the two and it seems Solomon will never stop learning new things from his parents.

“Perhaps I should skip Mr. Blanky’s next lesson and take one in cunning from you, father,” Solomon suggests and is rewarded with a scone tossed gently at his chest.

“You are far too cheeky for this early hour, Solomon.” James smiled brightly despite his chiding.

“Well…I am my fathers’ son.” He dodges the teaspoon that flies at him but joins in the laughter the table shares.

“Far too much it seems,” Francis speaks, a fond expression making his feature far softer and gentler than they often look.

“I wish to visit Tommy at the earliest moment available. While welcoming and gracious, I would like to ensure his care is of the utmost.” Solomon prides himself on the evenness of his voice, knowing the request would be met with both caution and skepticism, as Tommy’s eminent engagement could essentially hinge on the weekend ahead.

“I thi-,” James began.

“Very well, help Mr. Blanky with David, and then you may take your leave.” Francis equally responds over James, hand upon his husband to prevent the brunette from interrupting further.

Solomon shoves the rest of his scone in his mouth, undignified and disgraceful, before dashing out the back door toward.

“You must loosen your grip, David. It is why your hand is aching after one bout.”

“I’ve tried to tell him so, Mr. Tozer, but he does not heed my words.”

David spares Mr. Blanky a look of contempt that is met with laughter.

“I have met far angrier beasts than you, David. Now, we continue to spar, until you land a strike.”

Solomon watches with joy as his youngest brother works his hardest to land a strike on their teacher.

He remembers a similar experience and feels a rush of melancholy at the inevitability of growing older that he must sigh.

“Enjoying the view from your field of memory, Solomon?”

He jumps, completely unaware of his father’s presence, and is suddenly mindful of just how he became so efficient a soldier as to achieve his rank.

“David will not know how important these lessons are until he is my age. It is an odd mix of emotion, father.”

Francis nods beside him and laughs quietly as Mr. Blanky knocks David onto his back again.

“Too often our actions are not fully realized until long after they are committed,” Francis turns to go back into the house but grabs Solomon’s arm to gain his attention, “be careful, Solomon. These people have the power to destroy more than your reputation. James is set on this engagement and your behavior reflects on ours and that of our family. I _trust_ you to do your absolute best.”

Solomon meets his father’s eyes and takes in his meaning.

“I will not let you down,” Solomon looks toward David who finally managed a small strike on Mr. Blanky’s side, and he smiles, “Any of you.”

Francis nods and turns abruptly to pull David into his arms, congratulation him on striking his best friend, while Mr. Blanky grumbles about old age.

Solomon is atop his horse and shouting farewell before they are even back in the house.

* * *

Despite his early leave, night falls before Solomon reaches the Hedges’ property and as such, he is nearly frozen to the bone when he knocks on the front door.

“S-S-Solomon Tozer, here to see my brother Thomas Armitage.”

The door attendant lets him into the slightly warmer entryway, and he waits to be led further in by Mr. Hedges.

Only Mr. Hedges is not the only one who meets him. Mr. Pilkington follows behind looking all the part uncomfortable and dignified at once. It should not make him feel as unsteady as it does, so he blames it on the shivers that continue to consume him.

“You are nearly frozen; did you ride through the night?” Mr. Hedges rushes to his side, signaling a servant nearby to bring a blanket.

“I h-had to see to my brother, Mr. Hedges. T-though I ensure you have kept him w-w-well on your own.” His teeth chatter harshly.

Mr. Hedges laughs, not unkindly, and pulls Solomon closer to the drawing-room where an inviting fire roar.

“Thank you, Molly.” The deep voice from behind him causes another shiver to run down Solomon’s back.

A warmth envelops him as strong hands wrap the instant comfort around his shoulder. It would be a most tender moment was it not for the near-silent muttering of _“foolish man”_ behind him.

Solomon’s cheeks heat with anger as Mr. Pilkington comes into view and sits in a dark green chair beside the fire.

“Ah, your cheeks warm already. I fear what Thomas might think should his brother perish in my company.”

Mr. Hedges laughs again, and Solomon is utterly baffled by the unrelenting warmth and kindness the man radiates. He really is the perfect partner for Thomas.

Solomon returns the laugh, “I assure you, Mr. Hedges, my brother is plenty aware my end will be one of my own mistakes, not that of another.”

There is shared laughter until a deep voice calls out a bit too loudly.

“That is _clearly_ certain,” followed by a scoff.

Solomon meets the dark eyes across the room and their shared gaze is far more heated than the fire beside them.

“You must forgive, _Frederick,_ ” Mr. Hedges calls out his name as a warning, “He is not accustomed to company so late.”

Solomon spares another look at Mr. Pilkington who looks altogether chastised and angry, and the confusing mix still makes him look far more dashing than anyone he has met. It is wholly unfair and infuriating, which leads Solomon to make the remark he does without thinking.

“No worries, Mr. Hedges. I am sure Mr. Pilkington’s disposition remains the same, despite the hour company arrives.”

He wishes to take back the comment the moment it leaves his lips, his promise made to his father before his departure ringing in his head, but then a peal of warm laughter sounds out.

Mr. Hedges continues to laugh the more offended and shocked his friend looks.

“Oh, Freddie, it appears Mr. Tozer has you pegged.”

Even from the distance, Solomon can see the deep color that reaches Mr. Pilkington’s cheeks. He takes a hidden pleasure that the man is capable of offense in the same way he is. It makes him both more approachable and more attractive. Solomon clears the sudden thought and smiles kindly at Mr. Hedges.

“We must have you stay with us until Thomas is well enough to return home.”

“Mr. Hedg-,” Solomon tries.

“I will not have it any other way, and please call me William.”

He turns Solomon away from the drawing-room and toward the grand staircase.

“Let us get you to your brother.”

* * *

Thomas has never looked so pale, but he still manages to smile when Solomon enters the candlelit room.

“Who would have thought a little rain could make the boy who ate worms bedridden for days?”

The two laugh until a sudden crackling cough interrupts their joy.

“How are you, Thomas, honestly?” Solomon rarely uses the tone he addresses Tommy with, but he needs the truth, not the self-sacrificial answer he knows his brother would give him. 

“My chest rattles like a child’s toy all night, but I am on the mend. It was worse last night. William called the best doctor from the next town over to treat me.”

Solomon holds his brother’s hand tighter and leans back against the tall chair beside the bed.

He sighs, “I suppose your William is good for more than making you blush.”

His brother slaps his side and laughs gently to prevent another coughing fit.

“He is, indeed, Sol, which is why I am consumed by fear.”

Solomon leans forward and rests on his arms on the edge of the bed.

“What troubles you, Tommy?”

“William.”

Solomon waits in silence, knowing his brother needed a moment or two to gather himself.

“He is too kind, too good. I…I fear I am not enough.”

Solomon tightens his hand against his brothers, “That is by far the densest and most idiotic thing you have ever said, and I have a lifetime of things from which to choose.”

Tommy smiles and laughs softly again.

“You are the kindest and most decent person I know, and I say that as your brother and best friend, and as someone who knows your worth. Not only are you more than enough for William Hedges, but you are also more so. It is he who is not worthy of you, Thomas.”

They stare at one another for a long moment, Solomon ensuring his brother knows the severity of his words.

“Thank you, Solomon.”

It is sincere and all that needs said.

“However, if you mention the worms to William, I will, unfortunately, have to kill you.”

They delve into laughter once again and this time, Thomas does not cough.

* * *

Two days later find Solomon in the large library of the Hedges’ marveling at the sheer number of books before settling on the one beside one of his favorites.

He relaxes comfortably onto the settee nearest the fire, still chilled from the night before.

He becomes so enraptured with the adventure in the story that he is unaware of another presence until he hears a throat clear.

He jumps, the book falling to the floor. He reaches for it immediately and so does his unknown guest, their heads colliding and hands reaching the book at the same time.

Solomon looks up and is met with familiar eyes that widen but refuse to leave his own.

Their gaze and hands remain locked for a moment too long to be an accident before the other man retreats with the book.

Mr. Pilkington holds it out to Solomon, and he takes it.

“Thank you. I apologize for not addressing you when you entered. I was lost in the story.”

He thinks he sees a smile, or something akin to it, grace the delicate, pink lips of his guest.

“A personal favorite of mine,” he remarks, and Solomon is surprised by the personal insight.

Mr. Pilkington seems to realize this and returns to the demure figure he always appears to be.

“I must attend to work and the library here doubles as my study. I will not ask you to leave and I would ask that you allow me the same courtesy.”

He looks extremely uncomfortable and Solomon greedily extends his torture before answering.

“Of course not. Do as you please.” He smiles, polite and sincere, but the look of confusion on his guest’s face warrants one of his own, unsure as to why it is there.

“I…thank you, Mr. Tozer.”

He speaks before he can think to stop himself, “ _Please_ , call me Solomon.”

He receives a curt nod in response before his guest quickly takes up his space on the other end of the room.

* * *

If one were to ask Solomon how the book ended, he would not be able to tell you a single detail.

However, if they were to ask the various expressions that one, Mr. William Frederick Pilkington, made while conducting his business, Solomon could write a novel of his own.

Nearly an hour has passed and neither man has said one word to the other. It was not uncomfortable, but Solomon had never shared much time with another man besides his family and friends in such a way. It makes him dizzy to associate such familiarity with Mr. Pilkington.

His feelings of rejection notwithstanding, Solomon was neither blind nor ignorant, and he could not be paid a sum large enough to keep from looking at the other man.

Still, he is careful not to be overt in his attentions, and believe he is successful until he looks up once again to find the other man already staring at him. He could not look away no matter how hard he tried.

  
“If you wish for your solitude, I can return later.”

Solomon is suddenly aware that his _attention_ must have been taken as an attempt at intimidation.

His confusion leads him to question, “What possess you to suggest that?”

Mr. Pilkington turns stiffly in his chair and toward Solomon, looking all the important and powerful man he was. It was nearly impossible for all not to admire him, Solomon among them. He withholds the sigh longing to leave his chest.

“Since my arrival, you have not once turned a page.”

Solomon blushes and pulls the book to his chest while he searches for a response. All while, Mr. Pilkington has the nerve to look both amused and enamored.

“I-I was merely curious as to what work you were conducting.”

There is a flash of disappointment and Solomon tracks its departure and the arrival of mischief.

“Why did you not ask? We have been here nearly the hour together.”

“I am not sure of the manners where you are from, but here, such an interruption would be considered rude.”

He feels accomplished, but somehow deficient, as he tries to open the book.

“I am writing my brother.”

It is spoken far too quietly for it to have been intentional, but in the absolute silence, Solomon hears it.

“You have a brother?”

Mr. Pilkington smiles widely then, and Solomon’s breath catches in his throat. It is remarkable how the expression lights and softens the otherwise harsh and severe features on the man’s face.

“I do…George. He is with my uncle and I miss him dearly. He requests I return with a gift for him, as he has been bedridden these last weeks.”

Solomon soaks in each word like a dying plant would water.

“I am sorry to hear of his illness. Is he recovering well?” Solomon’s rasps out.

The other man nods, suddenly aware of how much he has revealed.

“Yes, thank you,” he sighs, “he is also requesting I return at once because our uncle will not allow him to play his pianoforte. With four brothers yourself, I would expect you could imagine how I have struggled with a proper response.”

Solomon laughs, well aware of the struggles, “I can imagine. Do not tell Thomas I have told you, but for years as a child, he would put mud in our fathers’ shoes when they would not let him have his way. Though it was clear who was the culprit, the false scandal he would create the next morning still brings tears to my eyes.”

Mr. Pilkington joins in his laughter and Solomon is once again surprised at the levity of the sound and the ease with which it was earned. The other man’s reputation on being supercilious and discourteous was perhaps unwarranted as the man was simply cautious.

He wishes to continue their conversation, but another enters the room and the sudden silence is resounding.

“Do not stop on my account, I rather enjoy the dullness of fumbling flirtations.” Mr. Des Voeux, Solomon remembers from the party at Edward’s.

The comment brings colors to his cheeks and Solomon opens his book quickly in front of his face to hide it.

“Charles, bold of you to admit, given your own prowess of fumbling flirtations.” My. Pilkington remarks curtly and meets Solomon’s eyes over his book with a kind nod.

There is a moment of sputtering on the unwelcome guest’s part before he speaks again, “Ah yes, but that is not the only fumbling you are familiar with, hm? Perhaps you could share that tale with Mr. Tozer here, or I could?”

He witnesses the fist of Mr. Pilkington tighten and face pinch in anger and Solomon stands so suddenly that all eyes turn to him. What he does next is both out of sympathy to his afternoon guest and incredulity at the intruder.

“ _Gentlemen_ , I must see to brother. Mr. Pilkington, thank you for your thoughtful and welcomed company this afternoon. It is greatly appreciated,” he turns toward the other man, “Mr. Des Voeux, my apologies. When last we met, I did not congratulate you on your engagement to Lieutenant Gore, as he is a dear friend of my fathers’. It is a testament to his patience _and_ to your luck that such behaviors and suggestions have not deterred his affections, as they certainly would deter mine and many others.”

Solomon bites back a proud smile at the shock on the rude man’s face as he slides his book in the empty spot he had made before.

He bows gently more toward Mr. Pilkington than Mr. Des Voeux, “If you will excuse me.”

He does not miss the matching smile of pride on Mr. Pilkington’s lips, he commits it to memory as he climbs the stairs to his brother’s temporary stay.

* * *

They leave the following morning. Thomas was more than well enough to return home and Francis had sent a letter they were to return home at the earliest possible moment.

The drizzle of rain had decided to remain through the early morning and continue as their carriage was prepared. Tommy and Mr. Hedges say their hushed goodbyes while Solomon pretends to find fine art in the façade of the manor and Mr. Pilkington remains a statue beside him. Mr. Des Voeux is nowhere to be seen. Solomon takes silent pride in the fact.

“Until then, William,” he hears Tommy whisper with a longing he has never heard, “Let us away Solomon, the rain is picking up.”

He remains beside the carriage as Mr. Hedges assists Tommy in.

“Solomon,” he nods, smile permanent despite the gloomy day.

  
“William,” Solomon nods back with a knowing smile and turns to the man beside him with a nod as well, “Mr. Pilkington.”

He grips the door with his left hand as his foot connects with the carriage step and perhaps it is due to the lack of support or the slick of rain, but Solomon finds himself losing his balance. In the frozen moment between his lost balance and a certain crash to the ground, strong arms grip his sides and push him forward into the body of the carriage.

The shock of the sudden event has him looking for his savior, only to find a familiar pinched, troubled expression on Mr. Pilkington’s face.

“You would do well to remember to be less reckless, Mr. Tozer.”

The carriage door crashes loudly as the other man shuts it and Solomon can do nothing but stare openly and without consequence, as the two men return to the manor.

He does not miss the way Mr. Pilkington’s hands open and close though he were suddenly burned.

He spends the entire ride home pretending to listen to Tommy and wondering what exactly Mr. Pilkington’s feelings toward him were.

He has no answer.

* * *

Despite the solemnity his curiosity had plagued him with, one that even had David asking him if he was well; Solomon could not help but feel joy at the lovestruck fool Tommy had become.

“Did I tell you what Mr. Hedges told me at dinner last night?” He sighs as he watches the rain patter against the window.

Solomon pulls himself from the book he was barely paying attention to and smiles even with his sullen mood. Despite having heard it three times, his brother’s happiness was most important to him, “I do not think you did, Tommy. What did he say?”

A mended sweater collides with the back of his head.

“What was the meaning of that, Tommy?” He cries as the slight pain from a harsh button lingers on his head.

“I have relayed it to you thrice already and you have not offered anything in return. You have been sulking and sighing for the last few days. I have had to keep Billy and Magnus away from the militia in town all on my own and David is struggling with his studies. Francis is positively frantic about this dinner we have with our cousin tonight, who could very well take the roof over our heads should he so choose. So, we must get you out of this storm you have yourself in. If I did not know you so well, I would say you were heartbroken.”

Solomon has a moment between thinking of a response and realization dawning on his brother before he hears a loud gasp.

“No!” Suddenly his legs are pulled over his brother’s own as Tommy sits beside him on the settee.

“You must tell me everything at once and leave no detail forgotten.”

He wishes he were stronger to deny reliving the hurtful and embarrassing moments once again, but Edward had not been by recently and Solomon could never hide anything from Tommy.

So, as the rain clears and the sun returns in the late afternoon, Solomon reveals everything, including his foolhardy feelings toward Mr. Pilkington.

“He must have heard everything at that party, Thomas. I was certain he would never speak to me again, let alone look at me. Then at Mr. Hedges’ home, our silences were companionable, and conversation sprang as though we were fond friends. I am beside myself with confusion. The man is more impossible to read than the French texts James’ forces us to interpret.”

“I cannot believe you, Solomon.” Tommy admonishes him and he feels guilty for hiding this until his brother surprises him, “Why have you decided to bear this alone? You find so few people amiable, and I am understanding as to why, but I would love nothing more than to help you. Despite my feelings toward William, my loyalty to my family and my brothers is first.”

Solomon blinks away the grateful tears in his eyes and clasps his hand with Tommy’s.

“I will live. Fear not, Tommy. All is well. If it were meant to be love, it would come easily like yours and Mr. Hedges.”

Tommy blushes but still shakes a hand through Solomon’s hair as though they were still boys.

“Not all love is easy, Solomon, but it is all worth it.”

He leaves Solomon alone then with his thoughts that, despite wanting anything else, are only filled with coal colored eyes and matching dark curls.

He sighs again and stares at the ceiling until the sun goes down and he has to prepare for dinner with some distant cousin, unaware of just the manner of dinner he was about to endure.

* * *

“Sir Henry Thomas Dundas Le Vesconte, is my patron, as I am sure you are aware.”

Solomon has never been so bored and annoyed in all his life and it seems James is mutually annoyed.

“Yes, Mr. Irving, though impressive, you have mentioned it no less than four times since dinner began and we are only on the first course.”

Mr. Irving, a man as nervous as he is boastful, seems entirely unruffled at the thinly disguised barb from James and continues speaking of his titles and land as though there was no interruption and he was seeking a new line of work.

“…As such I often find myself in the most agreeable company of possible spouses.”

Solomon looks up abruptly and tries to meet the eyes of Francis’ who seems to evade his contact on purpose.

 _This cannot be_.

He looks to Tommy who shares his same look of fear and outrage.

“Though they seem to lather me compliments and impress, I have to turn them all away.”

“No small feat, I am certain.” Francis remarks with barely contained outrage, fist tightened around a fork to the point of bending.

“Yes, quite so,” Mr. Irving agrees and looks toward Tommy who focuses on his meal with great intent, “though the ones I find the greatest prospects require a more delicate and practiced approach even if it may not seem so.”

“Believe me, Mr. Irving, none would ever suspect your approach to be practiced.”

Billy, Magnus, and David laugh loudly before being silenced with a look from James.

Solomon meets his eyes across the table, defiant, and there is both pride and defeat in his father’s eyes.

“Mr. Tozer, you do know that the parsonage granted to me by the generosity of Sir Henry Thomas Dundas Le Vesconte is by no means minuscule.” Solomon likens Mr. Irving to a peacock just then, chest puffed like the plumage of the proud birds.

“I do know, Mr. Irving. However, I show no interest in living in a rectory.”

“But…” he carries off, looking toward Francis who finally looks up for the first time since dinner began.

He holds a hand up to Mr. Irving and the dawning realization hits Solomon so harshly he feels faint.

“Solomon, Mr. Irving is here for a reason. You will treat him with respect while he is under this roof.”

Mr. Irving looks far too satisfied and Solomon is certain his dinner is now lodged in his throat begging to be released to the world once again.

“A-As I was saying,” Mr. Irving stand suddenly, “I was hoping to do so alone, but as Francis said, I am here for a reason.”

He is on one knee, ring standing proudly out, beside Solomon who stands suddenly and distantly hears the gasp from Tommy, sigh from Francis, groan from James, and laughter from his three other brothers.

Mr. Irving must mistake his movement for excitement because he smiles and were, he anyone else at any other time, Solomon would be able to generously appreciate the charm and boyish handsomeness he holds.

“Please, I beg you, Mr. Irving.”

“There will plenty time for such requests, Solomon, let me finish.”

Solomon’s heart is guaranteed to burst from his chest. His dizziness increases as he struggles to breathe.

“As the most agreeable son, of the Commanders, that is otherwise not involved, Sir Henry Thomas Dundas Le Vesconte demand I find a spouse. As both a cousin of mine and son of longtime friends, the match is more than agreeable, it is kismet.”

“Mr. Irv-,” he tired, breath catching in his throat that tightens in pain from his gasping.

“Please, my dear, I have been instructed, yes, but I have also been informed that the likeliness of another prospect of marriage being made to you is very slim for a man of your standing.”

Solomon meets James’ and Francis’ eyes with the greatest betrayal and hurt and he is determined to never speak to his fathers again. 

“It seems our paths were destined to cross at this very moment.”

If they would not, Solomon decides he must end his own agony.

“Mr. Irving, you are most likely correct that my prospects of marriage are so vastly slim for a man of my standing, as you were so kind to put so delicately.”

The man on one knee smiles proudly as though he had truly committed a gracious act.

“Very good, then do not torment a good man like me much longer, when you have already reached your decision.”

“Sir! I am not the type to torment good men. As such, I will end your suffering. Please understand there is no ill intent in my answer, but I cannot and will not marry you.”

Solomon turns swiftly and exits the dining room toward the kitchen before escaping into the night air.

He ignores the laughter from his younger brothers, arguing with Mr. Irving, and commotion with his fathers as he sits on the roof of his home and lets his tears flow freely and without judgment.

Tommy joins him moments later and they sit together in companionable silence until the moment it is too cold to remain outside.

“If they did play a part in tonight’s event, Sol, they did so with the best of intentions. I am certain.”

Solomon pretends to sleep, though he remains awake until dawn.

* * *

After two days of defiant silence and anger in his room, Tommy and his other brothers drag Solomon into town. Their allowances had been given and David wanted a new book while Magnus and Billy were looking for new knives for their whittling hobby.

“Wait until you see the soldier all lined up for the picking, Solomon. You will no longer remember Mr. Irving after the first Redcoat smiles at you.” Magnus boasts though the nerves are clear in his declaration. 

“It is like picking sweets from the store,” Billy adds, much more lascivious in his tone.

“You ought to mind the sweets, Billy. They will rot you.” Tommy chides, pulling David closer by his shirt as they pass the bookshop, “On our way home, David.”

“We are here for one reason and one reason only. We will do so and head home without trouble or consequence.” Solomon levels a glare at both his troublemaking brothers as he walks backward to make his point known, unaware he was about to walk directly into someone.

“Hey! Watch it you li-,” a voice cries out before stopping once his eyes meet Solomon’s, “apologies. I thought you were someone else.”

Of course, he had walked directly into a soldier.

Solomon raises an eyebrow and fixes his jacket, “You speak to everyone with such a tone?”

It is harsher than he means it to be, but the other man seems unperturbed.

The soldier smiles so wide, it wrinkles his eyes, and Solomon is reminded of a wild predator before it strikes.

“Only those who deserve it. More oft than not, it _is_ deserved.”

Solomon does not trust that smile and moves to take a step back, but the soldier follows.

“I’m Cornelius Hickey, and may I ask the name of the handsome man who decided to nearly knock me over this afternoon?”

He wishes to leave, but manners make him respond before he can think, “I’m Solomon,” he turns his back as he introduces the others, “these are my brothers David, Magnus, Thomas, and William.”

The man’s eyes linger too long on William and William’s on his and Solomon shares a look of distrust with Tommy over his shoulder.

“We must be going; we are expected home soon.” Thomas offers.

Solomon nods and meets Billy’s eye to ensure he does not speak out of turn.

The man, Mr. Hickey, either ignores or does not hear Thomas over the crowds, as he responds.

“I believe you were at Lieutenant Little’s event a while back, no? I saw you speaking to Mr. Pilkington?”

Solomon’s eyes draw together in confusion as to the sudden change of conversation and in its specificity. Though he possibility in knowing more of

“Do you know Mr. Pilkington?”

“In a manner of speaking, I both know him well and not at all.”

Solomon takes a step closer and away from the crowd.

“Solomon, we must _go_.”

He turns, frustrated at the interruption and lingering anger from the dinner have him responding harshly, “Billy, Magnus, get your knives quickly. Tommy take David for his book. We will all meet at the statue near the road to home at the stroke of the hour.”

Billy and Magnus run off, but Tommy meets Solomon’s eyes with uncertainty at leaving him alone.

Only through years and years of silent communication, is Solomon able to communicate that he would be okay and to let him handle this.

“At the hour, Sol. No later.”

He nods again and then he is alone with Mr. Hickey.

“I apologize, family can be rather bothersome.”

Mr. Hickey is untroubled, and the ease of his behavior reminds Solomon of a snake slithering unseen in the grass.

“I would not know. Mr. Pilkington was once someone I considered a brother, but that is no longer the case.”

The curiosity of the tale behind the claim and at knowing more of the man haunting his thoughts is too great to pass.

“Would you care to walk with me and discuss this more?”

The man smiles again, and this time Solomon smiles back, “I would like nothing more.”

He takes Solomon’s arm in his without asking and if it were not the possibility of new insight into Mr. Pilkington, he would have spoken out.

“We served together, you see…” Mr. Hickey begins as they walk through town, Solomon unaware of familiar dark eyes watching their easy stroll with anger and betrayal.

* * *

“…and that was the last I ever heard. I lost my claim to land, fortune, and my dear friend, who was more a brother, all because his father saw as much the son as he did Freddie. I have often heard of the warnings of envy and jealousy but did not think they would become such a part of my life.”

They had strolled throughout the town and at nearly the stroke of the hour, were headed toward the meeting point Solomon had set.

Solomon was at war while he did not know Mr. Pilkington to such an extent to refute Mr. Hickey’s tale outright, what he _did_ know made him greatly question its validity.

He fakes offense, mirroring one of the many conversations he remembers James having where he had to falsely emote.

“How wretched, Mr. Hickey, I cannot believe this to be true if only for your sake.”

The man nods fervently beside him, “Yes. I have only just arrived with the militia and hoped to speak with Frederick and mend our broken parts, but he rejected all attempts to meet. I only wish to apologize for whatever slight I may have done.”

Solomon replies, more through his own trials than that of Mr. Hickey, “There is no need to apologize. Whatever actions people take against you, unless they are warranted, do not deserve an apology.”

Mr. Hickey laughs, “I appreciate the candor, Mr. Tozer. I only bring this situation to light as I was hoping you would deliver a letter to Mr. Pilkington as any with my name are rejected outright.”

“It is the very least I could do while they remain at the Hedges’ estate, Mr. Hickey. Give me the letter and I will deliver it tomorrow.”

He is unsure why he accepts so readily, but the earnestness and forthcoming honesty of the other man makes him feel as though he could trust him.

His brothers came into view and Solomon stops them just before they reach them.

“I am sorry to leave so abruptly, but I will follow through on this promise, and do hope to see you again, Mr. Hickey.”

He smiles kindly, still wary, but happy at the prospect of a possible new friendship.

“I am certain you will, Solomon. Farewell.” He does not miss the way the other man’s eyes move about his body but keeps the effect of the look to himself. Such obvious want was refreshing when he was still uncertain as to Mr. Pilkington’s intentions and emotions. If there were any to be found.

* * *

Once they are home, Tommy pulls Solomon to their room and demands to know everything, so he explains.

“What is in the letter, then?”

Solomon shrugs and gives the sealed letter to Tommy.

His brother’s curls fly suddenly as his head rises.

“We must open it at once.” Tommy declares.

“No, no, no,” Solomon tries to take the letter back, but his brother’s height is used against him.

“Do not be foolish! You do not know what this letter says and yet you are willing to deliver it on behalf of a stranger whose claim you cannot substantiate.”

Solomon stops his attempts in a rush.

Thomas looks pleased then continues, “It makes one wonder if the delivery of the letter is less to help a stranger and more to help yourself.”

He raises his brows and Solomon’s jaw drops.

“I-I have no idea of what you speak. I am merely forwarding the letter.”

Thomas gasps in sudden surprise.

“You do not know?”

“Know what?” Solomon sits upright in haste.

“Mr. Pilkington has returned from London. William wrote me just this morning that he would like if _we_ joined them for dinner tomorrow. Seems your presence was _requested._ ”

The news is like a strike to his stomach, Solomon even curls his torso as though he was struck.

Then he promptly tackles his brother to the ground and lands several playful strikes before they devolve into laughter and settle on the ground next to each other.

“Why did you not tell me?” He asks, out of breath.

“You hardly allowed me into our room, let alone have spoken these last days. I do not fault you, but I was uncertain as to how such news would be received.”

There is a long moment of silence before Solomon confides his curiosity in his brother.

“Did he truly request my presence?” It is asked quietly, fear and apprehension evident.

“Yes, Solomon. He did.”

He sits up quickly, blood rushing to his cheeks.

“Then we open the letter. Is there a marking on the seal?”

“It looks like the silhouette of a small animal.”

Thomas holds the letter out, showing the wax seal.

“Is that a rat?”

They both take another look closer and shrug it off. Mr. Hickey had been odd enough himself that the wax seal seemed minor in comparison.

While they did not do it often, during a sudden summer thunderstorm, when Mr. Blanky’s daily lesson had been ruined, the instructor has taught them how to unseal and reseal a letter.

_“You never know what you need to know.”_

He had remarked and at the time the two boys had written it off as another one of the man’s oddities, but now held it in high esteem. They had learned a great deal of their fathers’ dealing and gossip from this practice. Now, though, the delicate process was proving fruitful in their own lives.

Ten agonizing moments later, Thomas successfully opened the letter without breaking off any of the seal. Now Solomon would only have to match the color and it would be resealed without anyone the wiser.

“You read it.”

Solomon takes hold of the letter and reads it aloud for them both.

_My brother,_

_In the time I have known you, I believed I had known the measure of your character. Though, now, it seems I may have been mistaken. I have requested your presence thrice now and each has been met with refusal or disregard._

_I will not pester you, even though you may think me a pest. Nevertheless, I must speak with you on the topic of our father. Though we are not related by blood, father did express he saw me as such. The sum left to me after his passing, though significant, seems to be much smaller than your fortune and I have consulted professionals who believe this to be a mistake. I do not contest this, and I do contest the execution of father’s estate at your hands._

_If you do not respond or call on me to rectify this matter, I will be forced to seek other solutions._

_You and I are both aware of how resourceful I can be._

_Your brother,_

_Cornelius Hickey_

_P.S. Give my best to Solomon. You always had impeccable taste, Freddie._

Solomon throws the letter onto the vanity.

“That vile, wretched little man.” He spits out, ashamed that he let his own emotions steer him into this predicament.

“I will not say I told you so. What are we to do now, Sol?”

“We still have to deliver the letter. It cannot go unread by the intended receiver, but Mr. Pilkington will never forgive either of us for being the one to hand it over.”

“Should I ask William?”

“No!” Solomon shouts too loudly, but he knows that he cannot put his mistake on either his brother or Mr. Hedges.

He is solely responsible and though it may come at the expense of his future at happiness, he will carry the burden.

“I will deliver it.” He declares firmly and feels a weight settle on his shoulders.

“You cannot, I wo-,”

“Not another word on it Thomas. Now, leave me to seal the letter.”

His brother looks like he going to fight Solomon on the decision, but something in his expression but makes Tommy concede defeat.

“Very well.”

Solomon takes his place at their vanity and begins working.

Less than half the hour has passed as he matches the wax color.

In a single drop of wax and the press of his finger, he quite literally seals his fate, unaware of someone who had an ear pressed to their door since they entered.

* * *

“Where are you off to? I thought we were meant to have dinner together?” Billy inquires as he stands in the doorway of their room.

“Mr. Hedges and his friend, Mr. Pilkington have invited us to dinner,” Tommy notes, a little annoyance in his voice that was ever-present in being the eldest sibling.

“Would you like to join us, Billy? I am certain Mr. Hedges will not mind.” Tozer asks, knowing how little time they have spent together since their hosts arrived.

“No, I have to pa-,” he stops suddenly, and Solomon looks up as he finishes, “patch Magnus’ jacket, you know he never gets his stitching proper.”

“Let him learn on his own, Billy. Please, join us.” Solomon requests both at missing his younger brother and as a buffer between him and Mr. Pilkington.

He meets his brother’s eyes with a smile and receives a sad one in return.

“What is the matter, Billy?” Tommy asks, having turned to see Billy’s response.

As quickly as it arrives, the sadness disappears to the happy smile he has only ever seen.

“Nothing, Sol. Perhaps, I will join you another time.”

Solomon smiles, certain there would be man dinners held in the near future.

He places a warm hand on Billy’s thin shoulder, “I will snag you a lemon cake, then, I know they are your favorite.”

He is suddenly filled with the body of his brother as Billy hugs him tightly.

Then he is released just as quickly.

“T-thank you.”

Billy leaves then and closes his door softly.

Solomon turns to Tommy, baffled.

“What was all that about?”  
  


Tommy shrugs, “He has been as such for a month, one moment causing trouble, the next as melancholy as our fathers when it snows. It worries me, but you know how difficult it is for him to show his true feelings.”

“We have to talk to him when we return. It makes me uneasy to think he is suffering at all, even more so if he does so alone.”

Tommy nods and finishes adjusting his waistcoat.

“The moment we return, we will gather all of them into our room and have a party of our own like when we were boys.”

Solomon nods, excited that there would be something nice after what was certain to be a disastrous evening.

* * *

“Are you certain you are ready, Solomon?”

Were he not consumed by his nerves; Solomon might have had the presence of mind to laugh as they already arrived at the Hedges’ home.

“I cannot delay it, Tommy. I began this and I will end it.”

Solomon is out of the carriage before the driver could open.

“Thomas, Solomon. Thank you so much for coming. I have had the cook prepare something exquisite.”

He pulls Thomas’ arm into his own and they enter the home together, smiling mimicking one another.

Solomon trails behind, trying to find the man he seeks without looking as though that was what he was doing.

He must not be successful as Mr. Hedges speaks out, “Freddie is in the library, Solomon. Though be cautious, he arrived from his errands in a foul mood this afternoon.”

Solomon makes a joke to alleviate his state, “As though I will be able to know the difference from any other mood.”

William laughs warmly, “Indeed, my friend. Come, Thomas, I must show you the kitchens.”

They take their leave, Thomas sparing Solomon a sympathetic look.

Solomon nods, indicating he would be fine and that all would be well.

He takes a deep breath before entering the library to find Mr. Pilkington looking far more handsome than Solomon remembers. It had been barely a week total, but the sight of the demure man makes his cheeks color.

His eyes follow the dark grey tailcoat to a deep purple and black waistcoat to a matching ascot and a cream collar that heightens the severity of the man’s jawline.

Solomon is certain that thoughts he chooses to entertain at that moment would shame even the freest of people.

“Mr. Pilkington,” he rasps out, prompting the other man to jump slightly.

The man turns and does not say a single word to Solomon.

“I…there is,” He stops, uncertain of how to even broach the subject.

He steels his nerves and walks directly toward the other man.

“A Mr. Hickey requested I deliver this message to you.”

There is a flurry of different emotions that rapidly appear and disappear on Mr. Pilkington’s face.

Surprise, admiration, anger, hurt, and finally indifference. Solomon catches each one and is confused by them all.

The letter still hangs between them, wax seal exposed.

Mr. Pilkington looks from the letter to Solomon and back before he takes it roughly from the outstretched hand.

“You often do the bidding of _strangers_?” He asks tersely, emphasis on the last word as though trying to figure out the strength of it. His back is to Solomon.

“I do not.”

“Then, Mr. Hickey is one you would consider a friend?”

“I would not.”

The other man turns back suddenly, anger and confusion evident.

There is a single defining moment where Solomon stares back just as intently.

“You are without a doubt the most confounding being I have ever met.”

“It was not my intention to ever mislead you.”

The man scoffs.

“Of course not, if no intent is made, how could it ever be considered misleading?”

Solomon’s eyebrows draw together, absolutely lost in the wilderness of the conversation until he reaches a clearing of understanding. He once again finds his courage to speak and asks the boldest question he can at that moment.

“Is that a request?”

Mr. Pilkington’s eyes widen at the question and his cheeks are far darker than before. Solomon watches the light of flames dance in the dark depths of his gaze and waits for a response.

“What do you mean?” The other man whispers, voice crackling like logs ablaze beside them.

Solomon takes a step closer for no other reason than selfish desire.

“Do you request that I make my intentions known to you? Since I have been otherwise unclear?”

His voice is lower than intended, but the weight of the statement calls for something more authentic.

He watches the bob of Mr. Pilkington’s throat as the man swallows harshly before his eyes travel up toward the delicate pink of plush lips and back to the now-burning gaze of the other man.

“I-It,” he clears his throat, “It would seem unnecessary now.”

Solomon leans even closer, positively drunk on this feeling of recklessness, “Why is that?”

“No matter your intentions, it would not change the way I feel toward you.”

Solomon jolts away, exposed by the words.

He wants to reach out, to touch some part of the man in front of him and ensure his existence.

His fist tightens beside him.

“What are your feelings toward me?”

He knows he must look completely bewildered, but cannot help the turn in the conversation.

“As severe as they are sincere. Against my better judgment, against all that tells me not to, I cannot, in good conscience, ignore it.”

Solomon suddenly retracts.

“Against your better judgment? Am I so horrid that you must convince yourself of your affections?”

“I meant no offense.” Mr. Pilkington sounds genuinely earnest, but Solomon cannot hear it over the roar of his hurt.

“Your meaning is immaterial as I stand here clearly offended. What judgment of me have you cast that you now contest?”

“On the occasions we have met, you have made your own thoughts toward me clear. I believed any attraction or eventual love you could feel for me would be entirely impossible.”

“What thoughts do you speak of?” Solomon crosses his arms, defiant despite the uncertainty he feels, the letter crinkles against his elbow.

“At the Little’s, you spoke to Charles. He told me what you said to him which was later confirmed as I incidentally overheard your conversation in the library.”

“Charles? Mr. Des Voeux? I said nothing of import to him.”

“You did not tell him that you believed I was of no consequence and one with which you would not spend any amount of company?” Mr. Pilkington crosses his arms as well, defensive.

Solomon’s jaw snaps shut in anger.

“I am not in the habit of speaking so freely to strangers. I am afraid I do not possess the ability.”

The other man’s jaw shifts with uncertainty and he steps closer to Solomon despite the little space that had been there before.

“What of your comments in the library? You stated that you would have no future with me…that the less you saw of me the better for everyone. How am I to mistake that for anything of than rejection?” The words are whispered but the hurt they caused is clear to Solomon.

He takes pity on the man who had been silently suffering with this for nearly as long as Solomon has known him.

“What you failed to hear, despite the expected privacy of the conversation, was that I believed you to be one of the select few I have known that I have not only found amiable, but quite agreeable. However, as I believed your initial thoughts of me to remain true, I would not allow myself to hope.”

“Hope?”

Solomon rolls his eyes, more fond than annoyed.

“That you would ever feel for me what I feel for you.”

“Wh-,”

A booming knock at the front door beside the library resounded throughout the empty foyer and pulls both men out of their solace and conversation.

The door attendant can barely pull it open before Francis and James storming through the door.

“Solomon! Thomas!” Francis bellows out, certain his voice would be heard throughout the house, if not the village.

He barely has a moment to apologize to Mr. Pilkington before Solomon is rushing to the foyer, letter slipping back into his jacket pocket, forgotten for the moment.

“What is it? What happened?”

“Your brother ha-,” Francis begins before James interrupts.

“We will discuss this at home.”

Thomas emerges from the dining room with William in tow.

“What is the matter?”

“We must return home at once.” James offers quietly, attempting to get his family out before any further embarrassment.

“What has happened, Commander?” Mr. Pilkington arrives at Solomon’s side, hands so nearly touching that he can feel the warmth.

Solomon has never seen his father’s face so red and not even James could prevent the powder keg explosion that occurred.

“ _You_ have happened Mr. Pilkington. Since your arrival with Mr. Hedges, my family has known no peace. My eldest spends his day with his head in the clouds. Solomon has become not only unruly but downright defiant. It is only for the sake of their age, my two youngest have not met such a fate. I ask, no, demand that you would leave my family in peace.”

“As for you Mr. Hedges, it seems you are no closer to a proposal than you were yesterday or the day before.”

“Fath-,” Thomas tries to interrupt. Solomon is frozen in anger, embarrassment, worry, and fear. He has never been so humiliated, Mr. Irving’s proposal notwithstanding.

“Do not interrupt me, Thomas.” It was quiet, not shouted like every word spoken prior. Thomas nods his assent.

“You gentlemen are free to do as you please, but that will not be with either of my sons any longer,” Francis adjusts his jacket and straightens his shoulders, “You are both leaving. _Now.”_

It is only his loyalty to Thomas that makes Solomon’s feet move toward the door, following their fathers, and away from the man beside him. He does not miss the feeling of a hand against his, the warmth of it seeping deep into his bones.

He spares one look over his shoulder at Mr. Pilkington, _Frederick_ , and the expression on the other man’s face scares him. There was determination, longing, but above all _guilt._

He turns back, meeting the wets eyes of his brother, and prays that his thinly withheld rage does not result in his disownment.

* * *

“He’s what?!” Solomon shouts; certain the ringing in his ears was from the volume of his question.

All anger no redirected at his idiotic brother, Billy.

His fathers’ upset and unorthodox retrieval of him and Tommy makes more sense, but the insult to Mr. Pilkington and Mr. Hedges was still unclear.

Still, that would have to wait as the most pressing matter was that of Billy.

The half-drunk whiskey glass is gripped tighter by Francis as he explains the letter his brother left.

“Seem this _Mr. Hickey_ and your brother have maintained a secret, but no less improper relationship since the militia first arrived last month. As such, the boy believes himself not only in love, but _demanding_ his inheritance in full so that they may begin a life together.”

“That foolish, reckless little boy,” Solomon decries before moving on to solutions, and were he not so focused, he would have noticed the look of pride James bestows upon him, “How do we manage this? The elopement is scandal enough but can be explained away because of his age. The absconding, lack of dowry, and demand of monies is the real disgrace.”

“It is not so simple, Solomon. There is more at play.” James comments, pensive and apprehensive.

He sighs, feeling far older than he is, as he collapses onto the settee.

“What more else could there possibly be?”

“Billy’s letter suggests that it was Mr. Pilkington who not only encouraged their elopement but gave them the funds necessary to do so.”

Francis holds out the letter with one hand, a crystal tumbler full of whiskey in the other.

Solomon takes the letter, “That is impossible, they have never met.”

“But he does know this, Mr. Hickey?” James questions.

Solomon ignores answering until he finishes the letter, Tommy reading over his shoulder.

_Fathers,_

_By now, you have found my side of Magnus’ and my shared room empty. This was not an easy decision, though one made necessary by your inherent disregard for anyone who is not Thomas or Solomon._

_I have met the most incredible partner and have done so on my own, without interference or judgment from either of you. For this, you should be proud._

_Our meeting, only a month prior to this, was destined to occur. Since then, our correspondence and meetings have had to maintain private, lest your approval be less than what you gave Thomas. He may not have the wealth that Mr. Hedges offers, but what he offers in companionship, understanding, and love is more than a mere fortune._

_I must say, for clarity and assurance, Cornelius is thoroughly invested in me and we shall not be separated no matter your wishes or power. The marriage is legally and spiritually binding._

_You have told us our inheritances shall be given to us on our wedding days. As such, I believe mine is due as we will need it to begin our life together._

_I know that this is unorthodox, but I believed this to be the best course of action for all of us. You must know how difficult this was for me, but Cornelius insisted upon it given Solomon’s association with Mr. Pilkington and Thomas’ with Mr. Hedges._

_Please do give Mr. Pilkington Cornelius’ unending gratitude for the investment and guidance in our marriage. If it were not for him, I do not imagine we would have been able to wed._

_I love you all, my family, dearly and without question. I ask that if you love me as well, you will be happy for me and accepting of my new husband. We will return home to visit in the winter._

_All my love,_

_Billy._

Solomon turns to Thomas behind him, completely at a loss for words.

“This cannot be true, Sol. This must be what has had Billy so off course this last month. What did _he_ say regarding the letter?” Tommy asks, eyes pressing shut the moment he remembers they are not alone, and their fathers most certainly heard him.

“What letter?”

“There was another?”

Francis and James ask at once.

Solomon sighs, “I met Mr. Hickey in town yesterday afternoon. I noticed Billy’s clear _interest_ and it returned from Mr. Hickey but thought it a passing thing. I walk around town with Mr. Hickey until we were to return home. He asked me to deliver a letter to Mr. Pilkington. I foolishly agreed.”

“Why?” Francis asks and Solomon meets his eyes evenly when he responded.

“If only to see him again.” He wishes the surprised look in everyone’s eyes was anything else.

“If one is to believe the rumors, the manner of your relationship with Mr. Pilkington is of animosity.”

“Perhaps it was once, but I cannot confirm them on _his_ behalf.”

“And your own?” Thomas asks, delighted despite all that has happened this night.

Solomon looks down at his tightly clasped hands.

“I can confirm that my manner toward Mr. Pilkington is not one of animosity, but rather,” he stops for a moment to both prepare and affirm his feelings toward the man, “adulation.”

There is a quiet gasp, from _Francis_ , surprised at the admission or ability of Solomon to feel that way, he is not sure.

No one speaks for a long moment, Tommy’s hand on his shoulder a reassuring weight.

Surprisingly, it is James that takes pity on him and shifts the conversation back to the matter at hand.

“Do you know what the letter to your…to Mr. Pilkington held?”

He hands over the letter and notices the smile on James’ lips before he delves into laughter.

“Tom is going to get an earful next I speak to him.” He hands the letter to Francis who inspects the wax seal after James points to it.

“ _Ah_ , the double seal. I have not seen such a clean execution since that letter of Sir John’s.”

James laughs again and Solomon is abruptly reminded of the lives his fathers have led before he and his brothers were adopted. An entire lifetime of memories together. He feels a new admiration and understanding toward them that he has not before felt.

“Though there is a slight chip in the tail, otherwise no imperfection can be found. Excellent work boys.”

The night was unfolding like the odd dreams Solomon had during the summer he fell ill and had a scorching fever.

“I will not open it now, as you have clearly read it, what was written?”

“Mr. Hickey wrote of his kinship to Fre- _Mr_. _Pilkington_. It would seem his father treated and respected Mr. Hickey as a son. After his passing, he left them both inheritances and fortunes. Mr. Hickey expressed that his was significantly smaller and that a _professional_ had agreed. He demanded a meeting with Mr. Pilkington to discuss the handling of the estate. It ended with thinly veiled threats and a mention of me. It seems fortune and possible prestige is all Mr. Hickey seeks. This letter was more than likely a ruse to ensure we were gone when Billy left.”

Solomon sighs heavily, the weight of the night causing his shoulder to sag.

“This is all my fault. If I had accepted the proposal you wanted, from Mr. Irving, none of this would have happened. Billy would not have been tricked. Thomas would be on his way to engagement. You would not have had to do what you did tonight. It all would have been fine.”

He rubs at his eyes harshly before he is suddenly enveloped in warm arms. The bulk of them tells him that it is Francis that hugs him tightly and he returns the affection, feeling much older and younger all at once.

“We cannot control everything, Solomon. Trust me, I have tried, and it has only ended up a mess. You can only control yourself and in doing so you have not only maintained your own integrity but that of this family. You could have done so much, this letter most recently but more than a handful of others come to mind, in which you could have chosen to follow your emotions or whims. Instead, you have chosen propriety and dignity over and over.” Even with the disconcerting Mr. Irving, you handled your choice so _kindly_ , where others may have not.”

James speaks then, voice cracking from either disuse or emotion, “Son, please believe we had no insight or involvement in the event of that night. We simply thought your cousin wished to visit the estate and discuss business. When we insisted upon our children to choose their futures, where we could not have, it was not a hollow promise,” he smiles sadly and meets Francis’ eyes, “Despite your father’s rush of fury and lack of restraint tonight, we support your intentions wholeheartedly.

James calls Thomas to sit beside him and Solomon recalls their first holidays together, before his brothers were adopted, where they were sat in a similar manner.

“Mr. Hedges could not be more enamored with you Thomas, even if you tried. He seems a devoted partner and we trust your judgment soundly.” Thomas looks pleased and embarrassed and Solomon laughs.

“And you. Solomon, for you to admit that your manner is anything more than impartial is _significant_. You like so few people. If Mr. Pilkington has endeared himself to you, then he already has to us as well.”

Francis nods and sighs before adding, “Even with Billy, we must and will inevitably support him because it is his decision, despite the clear manipulation of Mr. Hickey. If your happiness rests within these means, we will do all we can to ensure it. I will return to the Hedges’ estate in the morning with James and try to mend what was broken tonight. I _promise_ you.”

The resolution in the promise is not meant to be taken lightly. There remains no doubt that Francis would demand mountains to move if that was what it took. His love for them increases tenfold at that moment, unending and unconditional.

“Now, it has been far too momentous for one night. Get some rest, you two. We will start anew tomorrow.”

The two are almost out of the study when Thomas turns back around.

“Father,” Thomas speaks out and looks to Solomon quickly, “may we join you when you return to Wil-Mr. Hedges’ home tomorrow?”

Solomon’s eyes widen with pleading as he looks to Francis, who looks to James, who returns the look with love, approval, and pride.

“Very well, be ready by mid-morning. Let us not surprise your men before they have had a chance for breakfast.” Francis rubs his eyes roughly, looking all the part the exhausted father of five boys.

“Nor your morning tea, Francis. We are more than well aware of what state you are in before then.” James remarks, cheekily, and with nothing but fondness.

Francis laughs warmly as Thomas and Solomon take their leave. They climb the stairs to their room and prepare for bed as quickly as Christmas Eve night when they were boy, determined that the faster they sleep the faster the next morning would come.

* * *

“…it is impossible that you knew nothing of this, Magnus! You and Billy share a room!”

Magnus, defiant and arms crossed, remain silent.

Francis sits back down at the table and sighs.

“We only wish to see him, Magnus, to ensure his happiness and do as he asks. We cannot do that if we do not know _where_ he is.” James tries to cajole, gently, knowing Magnus only wishes the same.

“He loves him,” Magnus replies, succinct.

“We know this, and we want to help him begin their life together, please.”

“They are in London,” David calls out from the back door.

James jumps, fully startled by the sudden voice, and Solomon, Tommy, and Francis laugh at the sight.

“Where does that boy hide?” James asks aloud but receives no answer.

“How did you find out, David?” Magnus, indignant, demands.

“My room is next to yours, Magnus. You and Billy are neither as quiet nor as smart as you believe yourselves to be.”

Solomon chokes on the scone he has bitten. David’s honesty and delivery of his comments, regardless of whom he was speaking to, has always brought him immense joy.

Francis, smile still on his face at the absurd but common folly that seemed to become his everyday life.

“Very well,” James remarks, “after we return from the Hedges’, your father and I will make preparations for London and leave at once. Magnus and David will accompany us,” Magnus tries to object but James holds a hand out, “not a word about it. Thomas and Solomon, you will remain here to maintain the home.” He winks from behind his teacup and their excited smiles do not leave their faces all throughout breakfast.

Their ride to the Hedges’ is fraught with nerves and tension the closer they get.

Upon arrival, it changes to heartbreak in an instant.

The main door is left open as the serving and house staff hustled about the home.

“Excuse me, may I inquire as to what you are doing?” James asks a serving girl; Solomon remembers is named Molly.

The chill in the air that had remained beyond mid-morning settles deep into Solomon’s bones and he need not hear the response to the question as he already knows the answer.

“The family left suddenly in the night, sir. We were not told why only to prepare for the vacancy.”

Solomon and Thomas say nothing, merely return to the carriage in silence.

On the ride to return home, Francis continues to mutter, ‘I’m sorry,’ over and over again, while James insists, they will ‘fix it.’

“It is no use,” Tommy says suddenly moments before they arrive home and the hopelessness in his voice breaks their hearts even further, “if Solomon does not object, may I accompany you to London? I would rather not remain here.”

“I do not object,” Solomon states if only to keep everyone from looking at him.

In a matter of hours, his family is gone.

Solomon, for the first time in his life, is utterly and inescapably alone.

* * *

After just short of a week, Solomon is consumed with boredom. The steadfast and intentional ignorance of his heartbreak coupled with his remembrance of how horrible and neglectful a friend he has been to Edward, has him calling upon them in the afternoon.

When Edward opens the door, a smile is replaced with surprise before Solomon is pulled into the house.

He has not seen Edward so joyous in recent memory, but the moment his smile falls, Edward knows why he has come. Were it not for their decades of close friendship, he would think the other man clairvoyant.

They walk toward the gardens, their favorite place when they needed to speak privately.

They sit for a moment in silence, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun.

“Whenever you are ready, Sol. I am here to listen.”

He feels guilty, longing to know what has his friend walking on air, but the weight of his own quandary has him speaking before he can stop himself.

He takes a deep breath and as a large cloud shades briefly from the sun, explains everything.

“God in heaven, Solomon,” Edward laughs gently, “Were it any other family than your own, I would not believe your story.”

Solomon laughs too, less hollow than when he was recounting every detail. He shivers a bit at slight chill now that the sun has begun to set and is surprised that they had been in the garden for at least two hours.

“Surely, you will find a way to reach him, and Tommy reach Mr. Hedges. They are well-established men; they should not be difficult to find.”

“That is the problem, Edward, I do not think he wishes to be found, at the very least by _me_. Francis’ outburst was enough to sever ties, but now? After all that has transpired and especially with Mr. Hickey? I am certain that I am the last man he wishes to see.”

He lets out a sigh, hoping that Edward will support what he proposes next.

“But Tommy – I mean, I am certain that Mr. Hedges wishes to see Tommy. If Mr. Pilkington had not held his back, I am sure he would have fought for him. I have to do something. I cannot remain idly by…I-I cannot let him down.”

Solomon’s hands land harshly from where they hung in the air, at a loss for words as well as energy.

“We will figure a way, Sol. We always have where our troubles have been concerned.”

He nods, smiles at the ease in which Edward’s calm voice has always managed to soothe him no matter the severity of his problems.

“Enough of my life, I have taken up enough time as it is, please tell me what has you so joyous.”

Edward looks guilty for a moment, “Whatever do you mean? I am always joyous.”

“Your mother said you were born with a frown and I have known you since we were children, you are as serious as you are kind. You also have not stopped smiling since I arrived, what or _who_ is the cause of my best friend’s happiness?”

“Edward! There you are!”

The familiar voice causes Solomon’s eyes to widen as Edward close from what appears to be fond embarrassment.

“John, I was not expecting you so early.”

“Foolish, my dear, as though I could bear to be apart a moment longer.” Mr. John Irving declares, placing a small kiss on Edward’s hand before even realizing he has company.

Solomon is in shock at the sight but does not miss the deep blush on his best friend’s cheeks nor the look in his eyes. It is the same look Tommy gives Mr. Hedges. The same his fathers give one another. The look he hopes he gives…

“Solomon! What a surprise!” Mr. Irving declares before he is pulled into a sudden hug.

“Mr. Irving, I must agree. I am afraid I called on Edward unannounced. If you have plans, I can take my leave.”

“Nonsense, I must discuss plans with his father anyway, but I could not arrive without first seeing Edward. If you would like, it would be lovely to have you join us for dinner.”

“I-I,” he looks to Edward who is far too amused at Solomon’s distress, “I would like that very much.”

“Excellent, my friend!” Mr. Irving declares before turning and kissing Edward once more.

“Until then! I am sure you have much to discuss,” he walks away then muttering to himself about flowers.

The two men watch him leave and Solomon comments, “I am certain that man has never felt shame or embarrassment a day in his life.”

Edward laughs, warm and free, “Careful, Sol. That _is_ my future husband of which you are speaking.”

Solomon turns back so quickly his vision blurs and then he laughs with both delight and confusion, “How on Earth did this happen? Tell me all.”

They return to their spots, and Edward sighs, “How does anything happen, Sol? It just did. I was in town on business for my father and there was this man who look lost beyond means in the middle of the square. I stopped to ask him if he needed help and we ended up spending most of the day together. I have not spent a day without seeing him since. He is quite _tenacious_.”

Edward smiles with nothing but admiration and love and Solomon’s heart swells in happiness for his friend.

“He told me of your _rejection_ , and I honestly must thank you for being wholly yourself or else we may have never met or met too when it was too later. I have not been so happy or so loved before, Solomon. I can scarcely remember a life without him in it and it has only been a month.”

“He is a bit eccentric,” Solomon comments, “but if he brings you such joy, I can do nothing but congratulate and welcome him with open arms.”

“Yes, he is unorthodox, but I must admit I never saw myself with one of father’s boorish and proper prospects. John is devoted and dedicated and dutiful. His eccentricity is merely an addition to all that endears him to me. I know how _others_ see him, but that is not _all_ he is. If we were all expected to be only what others think of us, the world would be far too complicated to live in.”

“You have always been far too wise and intelligent to be my friend, Edward.”

They share laughter and Solomon feels lighter than he has all day.

“I would not say that. If I recall correctly, you were not the one who convinced Tommy that if he ate worms, he would become undetectable.”

Solomon laughs heartily and Edward returns it in kind.

“He still has not forgotten or forgiven you for that.”

“How was I to know he would try to sneak into Mr. Blanky’s home?”

The laughter rises louder, “He still refuses to be left alone with him. He thinks he might try to end him if left alone too long.”

“I would not doubt it!”

The laughter dies as the last light of the sun falls beneath the horizon.

“Come, let us prepare for dinner. I am sure John has more than a handful of things to discuss for the wedding. You can help us decide.”

Solomon places an arm around Edward’s shoulder and sighs with faux weariness, “The things I do for my closest friend.”

Edward nods, “The feeling is mutual, Solomon.”

* * *

“And of course, Sir Henry Thomas Dundas Le Vesconte must sit as close to me as possible. He is my patron.”

“Yes, John, he will be as close as possible. Unless you wish him to be next to you instead of me?” Edward jests, not unkindly, but Solomon knows him well enough to hear the jealousy laced in the question.

“Of course not, my dear,” Mr. Irving sounds truly scandalized and Solomon marvels in their manner with one another, as though they have been together for much longer than actuality, “I cannot and will not abandon you to or for another.”

The severity in his statement is clearly meant not to be questioned and judging by the starry look in Edward’s eyes, it is not.

“I am happy that your patron is so approving of your impending nuptials, Mr. Irving.”

“Of course, and Edward is a far better match than you, Solomon.”

“John,” Edward chides, and Mr. Irving looks properly chastised, and were it any other person who spoke so boldly to him, Solomon would take offense, but at this moment, he is only amused.

“I quite agree, Mr. Irving.”

Mr. Irving smiles in appreciation.

“Do not encourage him, Solomon.”

Solomon winks at his new friend, “I haven’t the foggiest idea what you mean, Edward.”

“My patron is incredibly happy indeed, Solomon. In fact, his wishes for his nephew to be a part of the wedding, though I have only met him on very few occasions.”

Solomon looks to Edward at the sudden return to the topic and sees a self-satisfied smirk in place.

Mr. Irving continues, “He is far too severe and reserved for my liking. In fact, Mr. Pilkington once believed me to be a priest! Can you believe such a claim?”

Solomon chokes on his wine at the name.

“Yes! A priest! I still cannot believe it. Me? A clergyman?”

“Difficult to believe, love,” Edward smiles, “perhaps we should invite Mr. Pilkington for a visit. He will need to know the home if he is to suggest anything for the event, no?”

Mr. Irving looks less than willing and Solomon’s sudden hope dies.

Then Edward places a hand atop his fiancée’s and offers, “I am certain Le Vesconte would appreciate such a token of invitation on his family’s behalf.”

Solomon is once again in awe of his friend’s intelligence.

“You are absolutely right, my dear, Mr. Irving agrees and Solomon sighs as a chance to see Mr. Pilkington again – if only to explain his part, then, “I shall write to him at once and have him come immediately. There is far too much to prepare.”

Mr. Irving leaves the table at once without so much as a goodbye and Edward is both full of fondness and satisfaction.

Then, the excitable head of the man pops back in the doorframe, “Solomon, you must stay as well. It would be better to have two objective heads than one.”

Solomon nods, unable to speak at the sudden change of events.

“I will have Jaime set up the rooms tonight. It is only half a day’s ride from where Mr. Pilkington currently is. He will be here in time for dinner tomorrow.”

He is out of the room again in an instant and Solomon drains his wine.

“I love that man,” Edward comments unreservedly and holds his tumbler up, “now, let us discuss the plan of attack for tomorrow.”

Solomon’s wine glass is filled, and he holds his out to ring them together.

It is late in the night when they finally reach a decision.

* * *

When Mr. Pilkington arrives, Solomon is nowhere to be found.

As planned, he is in the garden with Edward discussing the arrangements, as his father and mother insisted upon him marrying at their manor, and will feign surprise at seeing the other man – even though he had already returned home to groom and dress for dinner. He had not appreciated his appearance in a long time but was certain Mr. Pilkington would appreciate the effort…at least he hoped.

His hopes were correct if both the surprise and the appreciative look he receives were anything to go by.

“ _Solomon_ ,” he whispers.

“You know one another?” Mr. Irving asks earnestly, “Delightful!”

Edward steps in immediately, “John, have you seen your letter regarding the arrangements? I have something I wish to add.”

John grabs Edward’s hand, “Excuse us, this is absolutely urgent,” he says as though it were a matter of life or death. To Mr. Irving, it most certainly was.

In the span of less than a minute, Solomon is left with Mr. Pilkington and a large amount of uncertainty. Their plan immediately crumbles the moment the other man speaks.

“Is this your doing?” The other man asks the moment the couple cannot hear them. He sounds curious and not angry and it is the greatest blessing that Solomon can ask for.

“I am not at liberty to say,” he replies coyly, hoping the lightness of his tone will convey his abscondence.

“What are you at liberty to say, Mr. Tozer?” Mr. Pilkington turns only his head, eyes burning but face stoic.

Solomon stares for a long moment, memorizing each feature before he risks his future and possible happiness for good. He ditches their plan and settles for the simplest one: the truth.

“Only two things, though they are said with absolute certainty and honesty.”

He watches the hope bloom and curiosity grow as the other man shifts his entire body toward and close to Solomon.

“What are they?” He asks, tone so remarkably close to demanding.

“First, I am sorry.”

“ _Sorry?_ ” He sounds offended and Solomon tries to explain with haste.

“For my fathers’ unfair, though unknowing, opinion and accusation toward you. My brother had run off and eloped with Mr. Hickey that night and in his letter, they were told to thank you for both funding and invention of the idea. I know you played no part and explained as much. We had arrived to apologize, only to find the estate vacated and you and Mr. Hedges had gone.”

“How did you know?”

Solomon’s eyebrows furrow together, “Know what?”

“That I played no part? From where I stand, had I not sought you out and made my intentions toward you known, that _man_ would have never sought you or your family out.”

Solomon holds out the letter from his pocket, certain that in exposing himself, he is handing over any future with the man before him.

Still, he laughs, “I read your letter and while I am heartily sorry, I do not wish to take it back. Mr. Hickey’s actions are his own, as stated in this letter and my brother’s should you wish to read it, but I can guarantee you that since you do not know my brother, you do not know his affinity and weakness for soldiers and conmen. This is not his first instance, though it will be his last as he managed to marry this one. Neither of us could have seen this coming or are responsible for their actions, the very _least_ of all, you.”

“You do not blame me?” He whispers, unbelieving.

“How could I? You played no direct part in this.”

There is a long silence as Mr. Pilkington digests the information, sudden apology, and absolution too much to bear.

“What of the second thing?” He asks, voice small and tight.

“ _Oh_ ,” Solomon replies, half-hoping that the other man would have forgotten.

“That is another matter completely.”

Suddenly, Mr. Pilkington is inches from him, “If this is about my… _advances_ , I assure you th-,”

“ _Your_ advances?” Solomon cries out.

The other man’s cheeks color with blush and he is left entirely confused.

“Well, of course…I-I mean… _surely_ you must know how I feel about you.” It is a desperate plea, as though begging Solomon to understand.

“I can make no such claim.”

There is a look of unrestrained annoyance and Solomon smiles at the man’s inability to tolerate even an inkling of explaining himself.

_“I love you.”_

His smile drops to pure shock, the words rushed and nearly shouted as though Mr. Pilkington had to fight himself to say them.

“ _Most_ ardently.” Softer and full of longing.

Solomon is silent and unmoving for far too long, unable to do anything but listen to the words repeat again and again in his mind.

“I am not in the habit of begging for anything, but I beg you now to please say something… _anything_ to end my agony.”

Solomon looks back to the man before him and he surely looks as though he is in agony.

It is odd, but he has never looked more handsome than he has in this moment.

“I have only one answer I could give, with absolute certainty and honesty.” Solomon finally replies, tone serious only because he is still unbalanced from Mr. Pilkington’s confession.

“Please, give it then.”

 _“I love you,_ for far longer than I care to admit. _”_

They are suspended in the moment, eyes lock and hearts racing before they move together as one and lips meet in a sudden rush.

It brings color to Solomon’s cheeks as he is thoroughly and affectionate kissed. The moment they part he left gasping and heated.

Unwilling to part just yet, he lay his brow against the other man; the man he loves and loves him in return.

“I must confess something.”

He holds Solomon’s hands close to his chest in his own as he pulls apart.

“Once I discovered your family was in London, I sent Mr. Hedges along on business. He just so happens to be staying in the same area as your family and given the letter I received regarding a surprise and a return to Meryton, I assume they have run into one another.”

“Whatever possess you to do that?” Solomon asks through a smile that has not left his face.

“ _You_ ,” he kisses Solomon’s hand, “It was for you. I must also confess that the moment I received the letter from Mr. Irving, I set out as soon as I could. I was determined to see you, even if your fathers banned me from the estate. I _had_ to see you, t-to tell you.”

Solomon steps impossibly close.

“Say it again.” He smiles, sweetly and in love.

“I love you, Solomon, please accept my hand.”

It is sudden and Solomon has known his answer since Mr. Pilkington arrived, but he cannot fight against his nature to toy with the man in front of him.

“I have, I am holding them now, Mr. Pilkington.”

The man in front of him tries to look annoyed but fails as he laughs.

“You are terribly cruel.”

“Only to those I love.”

“You have no idea how delighted I am to hear you say that so freely.”

“As delighted as I am to accept your hand.”

Solomon kisses him again for no reason other than because he wanted to; a freedom allowed to no one else but him…’til death they do part.

* * *

Epilogue

The months following were a whirlwind he is only just now recovering from. Tommy and William married the moment they returned from London, smile never leaving Mr. Hedge’s face the entire night. Solomon and Frederick had slipped away early in the evening to walk the gardens where the beginning of their tumultuous journey has begun. They did not return until later than night and were thoroughly embarrassed when Mr. Blanky pointed out their jackets were showing their seams.

The following week, Edward and John were wed. It was as extravagant it was unique. John cried for the duration of the ceremony and Edward looked every bit in love as the other man did and not the least bit embarrassed. Frederick sat with his uncle who challenged Solomon to a bout of swordplay after the ceremony despite them being in formal dress.

“Dundy, _please._ ” Frederick had complained much to Solomon’s delight.

“What? How am I to know this man can help defend against intruders if he cannot best me in a simple match?”

Solomon took him up on the offer three days later when he visited Frederick’s _real_ home and won much to the embarrassment of Frederick and the enjoyment of his brother who Solomon was quick to connect with over the pianoforte.

“Where did you learn to play? Frederick said he had never heard such sweet sounds before.”

Solomon had blushed, certain Frederick had been remarking, slyly, on something else if the wink over his brother’s shoulder were evidence enough.

“My mother taught me before she died,” he remarks with little sadness as he can scarcely remember beyond the pianoforte lesson.

“I am sorry, I did not me-,”

“It is quite all right George, there is no terrible tragedy I have not overcome. Please, show me your skill.”

George happily sits on the bench and he feels fingers dancing along his back searching for his own.

They are found.

The most difficult part of their engagement was where to have the ceremony. Solomon’s fathers demanded it be held at their home while Dundy insisted on his. It nearly tore the long-time friends apart before Tommy, ever-present of mind, suggested his own – _new –_ home.

Solomon agreed readily if only to stop the bickering, though the idea had been one he entertained more than he liked to admit.

It was a small affair with little fanfare, though Solomon did tear up when he met his fathers’ eyes from the altar. Their pride and love evident and the idea of leaving them for his own life a bit too bittersweet for his liking.

Before he realizes, they are wed, and the night was one that Solomon is certain he would never forget.

* * *

“How are you this evening, my dear?”

“Very well, but please do not call me dear” Solomon smiles as his husband sits beside him on their settee, “it is what John calls Edward nearly one hundred times a day.”

They have only been wed a week but, with the comfort and ease in which they are able to be with one another now, it may very well have been years.

The fire crackles beside them, his family is due to visit next week, and George is also coming to stay for a few days before heading to Paris. All the things Solomon once dreaded about what marriage brought, he now looks forward to without abandon.

An arm wraps around his shoulder and pulls him into an embrace, “My love?” he suggests.

“No, no, it is what James calls Francis when he is cross about something he knows should not matter.”

He shivers and turns in the embrace to face his husband.

“What endearments am I allowed, then?”

 _Frederick_ seems awfully put out if the frown on his face were any indication.

Solomon kisses it away until he laughs.

“Tell me, _please._ ”

Solomon gives in when it seems his husband might become unnecessarily cross.

“You may call me Solomon, Sol, or _husband_ for every day,” he watches as Frederick’s interest grows the longer he waits, it is unbearably adorable and he caves before too long, “my heart for Sundays, and my king but only _very_ special occasions.”

Frederick laughs, pulling Solomon’s hands toward his chest, a favorite activity of his when he is especially affectionate, he has noticed.

“And what shall I call you when I am cross? Mr. Pilkington?”

Solomon pulls their intertwined hands to his and kisses them.

He smiles, “No. You may only call me Mr. Pilkington when you are completely and perfectly and incandescently happy.”

Frederick smiles back and it is so open and loving that Solomon falls all the more in love with him.

“How are you this evening, _Mr. Pilkington?”_

Solomon’s smile widens as Frederick kiss his brow gently.

“Mr. Pilkington.”

His left cheek.

“Mr. Pilkington.”

His right.

“ _Mr. Pilkington.”_

Finally, his lips with a kiss that was more promise than a show of affection.

A promise to love, honor, and cherish.

A promise that was returned freely and without condition.

A promise for the rest of their lives.


End file.
